Chase after Michelle

“Mitch… Mitch, I’m sorry!”

You exit the bathroom in a hopeless attempt to retrieve her. But she’s already mad. And she’s probably gonna be mad for long.

You make the same walk you did on your way here, but this time, it’s a hundred times more depressing.

The trees look dead, the dried grass looks dead, the path that was once joyful is now just dirt.

Michelle, angry as hell, walks as fast as possible. You can’t even keep up, your pants sagging behind you. Every time you call out, she ignores.

You grab her elbow from behind, but she snaps her arm, showing you she’s having none of it.

These are dire circumstances. She’s really pissed.

After an eternity, you reach the school gate. She slaps her back on it in a gesture of pure fury. You lean on the wall as well, right beside her.

“Hey, I’m so--”

“Shut up.”

“Mitch--”

“I told you to shut up.”

Gray clouds loom above you. The air has become deprived of all its winter freshness and kindness, and is now just this bitter, hostile breeze.

You wait for Buckett as you feel the tough brick wall spitting cold up your back.

Lil’ Heaven better be worth it.